The 36th Annual Hunger Games
by SagittaArrows
Summary: Life in District 1 is too glamorous for Dayvid Crumblewood. But would he prefer to be there when his life takes an interesting turn of events at the 36th Annual Hunger Games. Rated T to be safe.


I wake up with a start. The factory next door has just started business for the day and it seems like everyone wants to be there on time for some reason. Why would that be exactly? Because everybody wants to get away quickly to see the Reaping – to see if they have made any money on their bets. Life in District 1 isn't as easy as people may think. I look across the room and see my brother and sister as still asleep. The factory noise doesn't bother them as much as me. My brother, Matti, turned twelve last week, just making him eligible for entry into the Reaping. The good news is that we aren't unfortunate enough to have to sign up for terrasae, unlike the unlucky people in Districts 11 and 12. I would rather live in one of those districts than in One. In One, everybody acts like they are from the Capitol. The other kids at school think they are strong enough to beat everyone. The Training Academy is the most stupid idea that Mayor Jelividge ever introduced three decades ago. Thankfully, he is stepping down from his post as Mayor this year so hopefully the new mayor, whoever he or she may be, will have some sense to destroy the Training Academy for all it's worth. I her something creak outside the door and turn to look at it. My mother pokes her head around the door.

"Happy Reaping Day honey," she says brightly.

"Please don't mum," I reply in a shallow tone, "I'm in there five times now, the odds aren't exactly in my favour this year."

"Dayvid, come on! Get dressed and help me get Matti and Rose ready."

I know my mother means business when she calls me Dayvid. It's usually just Dayv, or D, but Dayvid means something else. Dayvid means that she's worried about me.

Matti and Rose wake up soon after I come back from breakfast, unaware of the danger they may be in today. Rose is fourteen, so her name is in the ball three times. Matti is in there once. That means that all together our names are in the Reaping Balls nine times. Not good news for my mother and father. I pull on my school uniform which is the most acceptable clothing I have to offer for the occasion. Then I help Matti into his new suit he got from my grandparents for his first Reaping. They have always preferred Matti to me or Rose – probably because they lost their third child, also a boy, to the Hunger Games in its first year before there was the Training Academy to form our Career Tributes. Rose is dressed in her best pink dress that she wore for my aunt's wedding and we walk down to the living room together. My father has returned from work early to witness the Reaping. My mother and him walk together in front of us as we stroll down the sidewalk to the Town Square where the Reaping will take place. Esméy Funders, the chaperone for District 1, is already on the stage that has been erected alongside the stairs to the Justice Building to accommodate us. Esméy is sporting purple hair this year, along with a dress made to look like the ocean. I would think she looks beautiful if it were at any occasion other than the Reaping. After several minutes of the children assembling into their age categories, the large screen on the stage flashes into life and a message from President Snow begins. It's the same message every year so I don't bother to pay attention. Instead my eyes turn to find Matti's golden hair shimmering in the front row. _Please don't pick him_, I wish under my breath. I look over to the other side of the crowd but I fail to find Rose. She won't need my wishes anyway, she's too strong-willed for them to take her into their Games anyway. The tape fades to black and Esméy Funders starts applauding, along with some members of the District 1 upper-class families. No children join in.

"Good morning everyone and welcome to the 36th Annual Hunger Games!" Esméy's voice is dramatic and captivating but nobody bothers to pay her any attention.

"Let's escape the fanfare and press on with selecting our tributes for this year. To keep with tradition, we'll start with the ladies."

Esméy skips towards the Reaping Ball on the left hand side of the stage. She fishes around in the Ball for a while before extracting one piece of paper in a purple-clawed hand. She steps back to the microphone slowly to build suspense, but nobody is feeling it. I look over to the girls again and see my younger cousin Aleesha standing nervously twiddling her thumbs. _She's only twelve_, I think, trying to remind myself that I can't think of everyone that could be saved. She turns and sees me looking at her. She waves at me. I pull a funny face and she laughs. She likes it when I pretend I'm funny. I feel like I've been taken off guard when Esméy's voice rings out across the Square.

"Aleesha Mayour!"

Aleesha's face turns to stone. Her expression of laughter is there but she is processing the impact of Emséy's words. Tears start to roll down her cheeks.

"ALEESHA!"

I see my Aunt Patricia trying to fight through Peacekeepers to her daughter. Another group of Peacekeepers pull Aleesha onto the stage where she stands next to Esméy, scared stiff of the prospect of entering the Games.

"Aleesha, nice of you to join us here," Esméy's voice is too happy, "But before you can come with us, we need to ask if there are any volunteers, please step forward."

At first I don't think anyone has volunteered and judging by everybody's reaction to her appearance on stage, neither did they. Rose was standing on the stage next to Aleesha.

"I volunteer for Aleesha."

Esméy gives her a searching look before returning to the microphone.

"And you are?" she asks, again her voice too chirpy.

"Rose Crumblewood" Rose ushers Aleesha off the stage before standing next to the girls' Reaping Ball. After a moment of being utterly shocked, Esméy continues with the Reaping.

"And after that exciting turn of events, Rose Crumblewood is our first tribute," the applause doesn't arrive, but the tears arrive at my eyes do. "Let's continue."

She walks to the opposite Reaping Ball and whisks out another name. Returning to the centre of the stage, she laughs again, but this time it's shock, not glee.

"Our male tribute..." she begins, choking a little, "Is Dayvid Crumblewood."


End file.
